The slough of depression has flowed early this winter and I’ve had a hard time shuffling forward through the grey. Twin feelings of being overwhelmed and inadequate ride heavy on my shoulders. Tuesday was my lowest day: Only the presence of four dozen Tunisian Flex hooks needing to be buffed and written on pulled me out of bed. Why is it that a person can be exhausted and yet lie awake during the long wee hours of the morning?
We weren’t able to get away for a couple days to the coast as we’d hoped, too many orders coming in needing to be made, no time to close shop. Hooks, spindles, needles and hairpin lace looms continue to be churned out by Ed. Unfortunately I don’t seem to have the head for keeping things straight so make countless notes and lists. End of the year bookkeeping is glaring at me waiting to be tackled. One thing then the other turn my attention just as I’m organizing papers and pulling up figures.
Two things have been remotely interesting: reading and spinning. Spinning is soothing and satisfyingly tangible. Reading is pure escapism. I forced myself to start knitting a pair of socks using the Monkey pattern, but wouldn’t you know it, one needle strayed the day I started. I was babysitting at Faith’s house. She was napping when a salesman came to the door. In my rush to get rid of him before he woke her unwittingly dropped a #2 dpn and didn’t realize it until that evening when I picked up the ball of yarn. (And yes, she was woken by the loud doorbell which put an end to a peaceful afternoon.)
I am so thankful for the Tuesday women’s fellowship. We had a long, focused prayer time that I believe has started a healing process. While there’s still a heaviness I’ve able to work on have a bit of a more positive outlook, focusing outward more, and making myself do one chore then the next. I even have a desire to play the violin again. (I’d gotten to the point of thinking I should sell it as well as all my music and fiber stuff.) I also keep looking at the loom and cones of yarn wanting to weave but wondering what to weave.
Thursday I’d heard my cousin has been placed on hospice care. Don is eighty and has been dealing with Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. I went to visit him and his dear wife, Z, who spends every afternoon with him at the care center. I took the violin to play for them and sing hymns together. I’m grateful for this small gift I could offer for music does have a way of lifting a person’s spirit. Z is so faithful and loving, remaining cheerful in the face of these daily visits of more than a year as her husband slips further and further away from her.
Ed bought me a video/still shot camera since our digital is almost 10 tens old and starting to have some problems. Trying to wrap my brain around more new technology had me practically shunning the thing but I’m slowly figuring out how to use it and upload to the computer. I’m still not adept at editing the photos with the new software so here’s a couple basic shots. The Spring Lace Prayer Shawl is shown being blocked. I’m very pleased with how it turned out.
It’s my tradition to make cinnamon rolls, with a splash of orange oil in both the dough and the icing, the day before Christmas letting them rise once before forming the rolls then putting them in the refrigerator for the next day. I took them out at 4am and turned on the heater so they’d have plenty of time to warm up and finish rising for breakfast. Warm, decadent, gooey goodness.
Don’t you think these grey days of winter call for more sweet rolls and other comforting homemade breads?
